


i promised you i'd never give up

by zauberer_sirin



Series: if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson is really good at emotional support, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Future Fic, Introspection, Making Out, POV Phil Coulson, Skye has trust issues, lots of Skye feels, makeouts in Lola are always a great idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1470562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Milestones are important, and Coulson decides to celebrate this one with quite a bold move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i promised you i'd never give up

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [not the kind of girl you'd take home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1465519).

  


The city they picked to refuel is convenient. Scratch that, actually Coulson has been planning this for quite some time.

All morning he's been trying to find the perfect moment to tell her. Or if not perfect at least convenient. He's beginning to have second thoughts about arranging things behind her back. For obvious reasons Skye doesn't like anybody doing things behind her back, but she specially doesn't like Coulson doing that.

She is in the middle of a heated discussion with Fitz about the latest accident suffered by her laptop (not exactly an accident, a HYDRA associate threw Skye against a wall when they discovered his identity and Skye landed on her side and on her laptop bag; Coulson remembers the bruises she had all over her arm for days, and it's definitely become a habit for all of them, these close calls), Fitz offering to build her something from scratch, something shiny and powerful and Skye is getting extremely offended at the suggestion – that thing is only her secondary unit and it's ancient and she carries it everywhere and SHIELD might not have any funds right now but Coulson is pretty sure even so they can splurge on a new computer for their star systems analyst. Though Skye would probably shout at him if he even hinted at the idea. It's an old, bad habit and she needs to get rid of it – clinging to every thing like this. She gets the stance of a boxer when she does this.

She and Fitz stop arguing as soon as Coulson walks into the lab.

"Skye. Can I see you outside for a moment?"

"What have you done now?" Fitz asks, eyes very wide.

"Nothing," she says, then turns to Coulson. "Right?"

Coulson gives her a noncommittal look that puts the fear into Fitz's feeble heart. Skye, on the other hand, follows him out without a word. Fitz makes a resigned face at that – this is something they do.

When they are alone Skye raises one inquiring eyebrow.

"Clear a couple of hours this afternoon," he tells her. He sounds as authoritative as he can manage these days with Skye, because in this case he thinks it might even help.

She crosses her arms, and he actually likes this bit about her, the instant tension whenever she hears something sounding remotely like an order. "Mmm, okay. Mysterious much?"

"Not so much. You have to take your driver's test."

"My... _what_?"

"That's why we stopped here," he explains. "You can't go around with a fake driver's license. It's time. I've arranged it for you to take the test in town."

She stares at him. She must have imagined he had left their conversation about the subject behind – it's been more than a month, after all. He has been expecting her objections, too. Has come prepared with ammunition of his own.

"But I... don't want to?" she offers.

"Then it's an order. You're a SHIELD agent now. You can't go breaking the law for such a small thing."

She gets that mischevious glint in her eye that tells him she's about to play the smartass. "There's no more agency so _technically_ I'm not a SHIELD agent."

Coulson smirks: "Technically I don't care."

She frowns, pouts a little, face scrunched. She rolls her eyes. It's a process. 

"I probably don't have to take a test. You're government, you could vouch for me. I bet that works, too, legally."

He shakes his head. "You have to take the test."

She's a bit taken aback by his insistence. He wonders if she is suspicious of it. Perhaps she should; he doesn't know, he's been suspicious for a while.

"Okay, if this is so super important to you, I guess I'll give it a try."

No, Coulson thinks, this is so important to you. 

"Settled then?"

"But I haven't even had time to prepare," she points out, backtracking, stubborn.

"You _know_ how to drive."

"Yeah, but what if they give me a random, awful car I'm no good at driving."

"You're taking Lola," he says, like it's nothing, enjoying preemptively the face he knows she's going to make, ah the little things.

"But..." That's the face. "Have you had an stroke?"

"Are you finished with that?"

And of course Skye is really smart, she gets what he is trying to do.

"No, no, no. I mean it's so nice of you but – I _couldn't_."

"You can," he replies.

"No."

"You are going to."

"What if I crash it or something? I could never forgive myself. Have you thought about that?"

"It's just a car."

She gasps. "Take that back! Lola is not just a car."

"Skye..."

"Seriously, you don't have to do this. It's no big deal. I can go on as I have, I don't need a stupid–."

" _Skye_. You are not going to go around with a fake license." It doesn't sound like an order anymore.

"Why not? I go around with a fake name."

He watches her face; he feels tired all of the sudden, just seeing her fight something she so obviously wants. And he knows the expression because – he's been watching her fight something she obviously wants for weeks now.

"Don't you want to start having some _real_ stuff?" he asks and maybe it's a bit unfair and a bit harsh but it's also honest.

She looks down, lacing her fingers together. When she looks up back at him there's a smile in place, a bullshit smile, he can tell, but just the fact that she makes the effort means she's okay. "Jeez, boss, you didn't have to go all deep on me. You could have just said _Take the car, Skye_."

"Take the car, Skye."

She smiles. No bullshit this time, just the smile.

Coulson is not sure why it's so important to him, that he sees this through, that he stays close by.

"I'll drive you to the place and then I'll wait for you in town," he tells her. "You can pick me up when you are done."

He's sure Skye could come up with more objections if she tried, but she doesn't, so she shuts up and takes the gesture for what it is.

 

 

\+ + +

 

 

He's drinking his coffee and he is not nervous at all. Actually he's just been nursing his expresso in a local shop for ages now, letting it go cold.

He's not worried she might fail – he wants to believe Skye has matured since whenever it was she failed the first time around. The problem wasn't that she failed, of course, the problem was giving up. Most people wouldn't associate Skye with _giving up_. Coulson knows better: Skye doesn't give up, ever, but she _refuses_ , she _walks away_ , she leaves.

He wonders, idly, what would happen if she actually went and scratched his car, that had sounded like her worst nightmare and it's almost endearing to him – knowing Skye she'd probably be two states away, just to avoid his wrath. He begins to worry.

Then a girl in a beautiful red Corvette drives by his side, demanding his attention.

"Hey. You need a ride?" she says. She tries to say it like they were in a movie, _come hither_ , a country song version of the femme fatale. She's missing the sunglasses. She's missing the commitment in the voice; it doesn't quite – it comes out as a parody. She does it well when on a mission but somehow it always lands wrong with him. The fake is never quite fake enough.

"How did it go?" he asks, mortified that he can't wait to know.

Skye gives him a cruel _Wouldn't you like to know_ look, and god she is so annoying sometimes. Just for that Coulson contemplates not moving, and just staying here.

"Hop in," she insists, "I found a place with a nice view nearby."

He does as she tells him. 

 

 

\+ + +

 

 

They drive up a hill into a parking lot overlooking the town. It's a nice view, but not overly pretty, not _distracting_. It's weird to think about the world as a quiet, everyday place now, like this view, when they are in the middle of almost a proper war. It's weird, being here in this car with Skye, in a quiet moment involving something as everyday as a driver's test.

He gives her little sideways glances; it's bizarre, to be in the passenger seat, while Skye is driving. _Driving Lola_. It's not exactly a wrong picture, just so new, so unexpected. To be honest Coulson had never imagined anyone but him driving this car.

Suddenly he is thoroughly done with her, smugly making him wait. "So? Are you going to keep me in suspense or...?"

"I asked for a copy of the report form and all," she says, producing a piece of paper. For a moment he wonders if she really did _ask_ or...

He looks at it. What was he really expecting from Skye? Exactly this.

"You did _perfect_. I don't know what you were so nervous about."

She looks away, embarrassed. "Me neither."

"Was it so bad?" he asks. God, he sounds like a proud parent. He _needs_ to stop doing that.

"I guess not. It just seemed... pointless, when you brought it up this morning."

"Does it still seem pointless?" he asks, soft and important. 

She evades giving an answer, takes a moment to recollect herself.

"To be honest I was too terrified of even scratching Lola that I kind of forgot to be nervous about the test. But I suppose that was your plan all along."

He flashes a wayward smile. "And how does it feel, having a real license instead of a fake one?"

She sucks in a breath and she looks wistful for a moment, and it's an accurate reply. 

Coulson leans over to the driver's side and kisses her.

It might look impulsive but actually he has been thinking about it for some time. He didn't know he was going to do it _now_ , right this moment, right here in Lola, but he's not surprised at himself when he does.

They have been dancing around each other, around this thing between them, for the last few weeks, he couldn't help but notice. And fine, Skye is not the most obvious person in the world, she's actually been pretty good at keeping it under wraps, but Coulson is not only good at reading her, he also would never initiate anything if he wasn't completely sure Skye wants this. He is completely sure. He also knows exactly why she hasn't done anything about it.

The kiss is soft, unassuming, but he pushes his tongue in and makes Skye open her mouth under his. He clasps one hand on her shoulder to pull her against him – it's not easy, not in this car, but Skye lets herself be pulled. But then she is frozen against him, no response, and though Coulson is still sure she wants this he is starting to back off, starting to formulate the best apology possible in his mind, his mouth already open to deliver it.

Skte breathes in and cuts whatever he is going to say, pushing her hands against his chest but not pushing him away at all: " _Thank god_ , Coulson. Just thank – I thought I was imagining things and I – I just couldn't be the one to start it, couldn't risk it."

He nods. He understands. She has had enough disappointments in her life, enough of wanting-and-never-getting, specially big, important things, she could have never been the one to make the first move. She would have never, ever, said anything – and he finds that somehow very sad. This is the girl who fought so hard to be a SHIELD agent and one day after she gets her wish her badge and her agent status become not just a relic but an object of shame. Even now Coulson is sure she must be thinking he is about to change his mind. It's okay, he doesn't mind the way her fingers are tightly curled into his shirt. Then she moves her hands to his neck, his face, his hair, pulling until their faces are close together again. He lets her kiss him, at her own pace and however she wants, he's not going anywhere. She's all tongue and teeth and speed and a sense of relief underneath the desperation. And that is good, _relieved_ is good.

They keep on kissing for a long time.

 

 

\+ + +

 

 

Eventually she settles down and against his arm, Coulson's hand in her hair. They are a bit clumsy about it, though, revelling in and withdrawing from the touch at the same time. Coulson because he wants to be careful and Skye because she wants to be sure. He's still not thinking about the practical repercussions of what he's done (and, as already established, _he_ 's done it), after all he made the decision knowing fully well what was waiting for him, for them; for the moment he's enjoying the slight awkwardness, and the feel of Skye's nape against the lines of his palm.

She looks down at the piece of paper saying she can officially drive a car now. Her gaze on it is heavy, Coulson can guess why – it's the same reason he tried to push her a bit, to do this: he wants her to have lots and lots of real things. He knows why she's always had to make her life up like a story she was telling herself, but he wants to tell her she's allowed to have something solid now. For one thing he is solid under her weight, her head fitting against his collar.

"You never let me answer the question. About how it feels. It's not so bad, I tell you," she says, leaning into Coulson's touch, his fingers light on the curve of her neck. "As a rite of passage."

"What other milestones have you missed?" he asks, only half-jokingly.

"Why? Are you taking me to prom?"

He chuckles and she lifts her head. Coulson can read the clue, he hopes; he dips and places one brief kiss at the edge of her smile.

It's still too new, he thinks, too out-of-focus. This is Skye and this is him, and this is not how things were supposed to go between them – they are not each other's type, let alone each other's ideal, except _they are_ , in so many ways, surprisingly. Coulson would have never seen himself doing something like this except – he died, she almost died, they could die any day, she is the only thing that has been making sense to him, _this_ makes sense to him right now. He sighs against her mouth, it makes her smile. She pulls away and settles down again, a game of tension and release. Coulson wants to alternatively move this somewhere else fast and just lie here for hours.

Skye holds up her permit to him like a badge of honor.

"This means a lot to me, I just didn't know it did," she admits, and she looks so small pressed against the leather seat and pressed against his shoulder. "Thanks for helping out, pushing me to do it. And... thanks for the kissing, too. I could definitely use some more of that."

Fucking stupid defense mechanisms, Coulson thinks, and fuck the world for forcing them on Skye. What can he do except navigate them with the utmost care, holding back what he'd really want to tell her right now.

He smiles a crooked smile instead: "Are you asking?"

"Only if you are offering," Skye says and it's painfully honest in a way.

He slips his arm around her waist and pulls her against him, closing his mouth over hers harsher than before. This kiss is deep and hard-edged, almost rough, but he is trying to make a point, to give an answer Skye (the fake Skye, the real one, the moments in between) can understand. He grabs her by the neck and pushes until a tiny moan escapes her throat. God, he wants to raise that sound from her again, over and over and over, but he slows down, because there's no way this is going to happen in the car first. He doesn't have a definitivem detailed plan (he has some ideas, Coulson is a well prepared man, and he's been thinking about _this_ for quite a while) but he knows this is not it.

"Hold on," he pulls away from her, Skye's face and hot breath so close and so _nice_ he almost loses his resolve.

"Yeah."

"It's okay, slow down," he says, gently removing her hand from where it had been resting, fingers spread, on Coulson's knee. " _I am_ offering."

It takes her a moment to get it but then she is there, and she agrees. He doesn't want to guess at her past anymore but he knows the way she sometimes looks at him, and he knows she has also imagined _better_ for the both of them, not just something rushed and uncomfortable. It's exciting to think she might have her own plans (Coulson thinks, distracted, about getting new sheets for his bed, feels unbearable tenderness at the idea). Skye nods slowly and slowly she extricates herself from his embrace.

They go back to their positions in the car, not touching and Coulson kind of misses it and wonders what he's got himself into, how could he get so pathetic so soon. And of course it's still strange, seeing Skye in the driver's seat and himself in the passenger's, but it gets a little less strange with each moment.

She smiles, her hands on the wheel, looking at the vanishing sunlight ahead of them, some houses already turning on their lights.

"For the record," she tells Coulson, a new glint in her eyes, "I think you'd be a great prom date."


End file.
